Christopher Nosnibor
Unlike the majority of attendees, I’m not massively familiar with Theatre of Hate’s catalogue. There’s no real reason for this. My appreciation of all things post punk and new wave is a fundamental part of who I am, and I’m a fan of Spear of Destiny, and have seen them, and Dead Men Walking a number of times. But I know just a handful of songs by Theatre of Hate. And so essentially, I’m here out of curiosity, and to fill a gap.
To take a momentary detour, there seems to be an expectation that a deep knowledge of a band – particularly one that’s well-established – is necessary in order to review their work, and you’ll often see on social media fans lambasting critics for knowing nothing, and so on. And I feel a certain anxiety reviewing anything that’s well-known. But aa critic can’t realistically be expected to know the work of every act, and moreover, music is a daily learning curve. There is always something new. And the question should always stand, regardless of the bad’s history, ‘how does this hold up? Is tonight’s performance any good?’
It’s immediately apparent that not only do Theatre of Hate have a sound that’s a world apart from Spear of Destiny – as expected, based even on my scant knowledge of their releases – but also a very different approach to performance. There’s practically no chat. They get their heads down and play the songs. The vibe, then, is very much of a band breaking out back in the day, keeping that distance between band and audience, building atmosphere and tension and avoiding the awkwardness of chat by really performing instead.
This was very much the thing back then – a cultivated separation between act and audience, something some acts, notably The Sisters of Mercy, took to extremes, adding a wall of smoke between themselves and the crowd. It is all performance, all theatre. And as Kurt leads an incredibly tight unit through their catalogue, I feel that this is very close to the spirit of the early 80s. The reception may not have been quite so warm at every show at that time, but the essence is key – it’s all a part of the performance. The audience engages with the music, not rapport built through affable banter. Moreover, this is not affable music: it’s dark, vaguely claustrophobic despite the space between the instruments, the sparseness of the sound.
The guitar is fairly muted and definitely takes a back seat to the rhythm section. Original bassist Stan Stammers is at once an understated and dominant presence, and the way they cohere is compelling – but more than anything, I find myself fixated, mesmerised by the drumming. It’s a thing for me: some drummers are just spellbinding, and I find myself drawn in to the point of hypnotism watching their technique. Then again, the way the sax added a dimension to the sound was another thing which drew me in. By the mid-80s, sax had become cheesy, loungey, a bit yacht-rock, Duran Duran, Tina Turner. But a few years before, you had The Psychedelic Furs and a few others – including Theatre of Hate – slinging in a load of sax and yielding some dark results.
Given that the band lasted a mere three years, and released one album – but a lot of singles – it’s no surprise that the set is singles-heavy, and they bung in a Spear of Destiny ‘cover’ (‘Grapes of Wrath’) to help fill out a set that’s solid, but comparatively short. With no support act, they’re on a bit after 8:30 and done by 10:15, and it’s tidy. Less is more, and all that.
The captivating intensity of tonight’s performance is more than worth the price of the ticket: Theatre of Hate really brought some power, which was sinewy, compelling, and evocative, and you couldn’t ask for more.
Aural Aggravation 